Chapter 17 Of Scars and Secrets
Riley
By the time the swimming lesson was done, Riley was exhausted, dazed, and thoroughly distracted.
She trailed behind Calla on the empty deck, the captain’s coat wrapped around her shoulders covering her drenched shirt and shielding her from the night’s chill.
But Riley wasn’t cold. Surges of heat kept going through her at the memory of Calla’s bare skin, the feel of her hands on her waist, her back, her stomach.
She’d nearly cursed herself for keeping the shirt on once she’d realized Calla would be touching her. She just hadn’t wanted Calla to see the scars on her back, because then she’d have to talk about Neera.
Her ship still hadn’t stopped following them, and it was making Riley feel crazier than her visions did. Her visions, at least, were mostly harmless, and they never intruded past the threshold of Calla’s quarters. That made them bearable.
Neera, though, was a constant presence in her mind, stalking her all the way into her nightmares. But she hadn’t thought of Neera once while they’d been in the water.
All she’d thought of for that one, blissful bell was Calla, and how striking her eyes looked under the moon-lit sky. How hungry.
“You’re shivering,” Calla said from behind her as the door clicked at their backs. Her hands settled on Riley’s shoulders. “Stay here.”
Riley bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t shivering because of the cold.
But she remained standing by the desk, using the damp towel hanging around her neck to dry her hair some more as Calla went to her closet.
It didn’t take long until she was coming back holding one of her dry shirts, and the look on her face made Riley’s movements falter, her skin prickle.
Her eyes looked as hungry as they’d looked in the water.
The towel slipped from her fingers as Calla stepped close enough for her breath to brush against Riley’s lips.
It made them tingle, and Riley tasted that breath on her tongue as she licked her lips.
Calla hung the shirt she’d brought over on the chair’s backrest. Then, never taking her eyes off Riley, she reached out.
Her palms slid beneath the open captain’s coat at her shoulders, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her neck as they slid it off and let it fall to the ground, next to the discarded towel.
Riley shuddered. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked into those blue eyes, deep and hungry as the depths of the sea.
Calla’s hands skirted her sides as they trailed from Riley’s shoulders to her hips. The tips of her fingers slipped under the hem of Riley’s soaked shirt with an inquisitive tilt of her head. Asking permission.
Last time Calla had helped her out of soaked clothes, she’d barely touched her at all.
She’d been focused on a task, quick and careful and gentle, and her fingers hadn’t brushed her skin once.
Now, though, she was touching. Lingering.
Watching for every reaction, every hitch in Riley’s breath.
The air between them was charged, and the push and pull tension from the swimming lesson wasn’t simmering anymore. It was crackling.
Did Calla stop fighting it, whatever this was?
Riley had only one way to find out. Slowly, she nodded.
Her eyes trailed the column of Calla’s neck as she swallowed.
She wanted to lick that smooth skin, see if it tasted of the sea, but she didn’t dare move from where her feet had frozen in place.
If she moved, Calla might come back into herself and stop looking at Riley as if she wanted to eat her.
Riley wanted to be looked at like that just a little bit longer.
A small eternity later, Calla’s palms slid fully under the hem of her shirt, pressing against her back.
They trailed higher, the fabric bunching up against her wrists, and she wasn’t even pretending to do anything other than what she was doing.
An undignified sound escaped from the back of Riley’s throat.
Then Calla froze, and Riley froze with her. Because her fingers had reached the scars on her back. And suddenly, Calla wasn’t touching anymore. She rid Riley of her shirt in one swift move.
“Turn around, Riley,” Calla said. Her voice was quiet, but Riley stiffened at the steel underneath, and she did not move. Something twisted inside her stomach at the look Calla was giving her. As if she were… what, angry? “Riley,” Calla pressed. “Turn around.”
Riley set her jaw as she looked up at her, then, slowly, she turned.
Calla’s cool hand pressed between her shoulder blades, where Riley knew the worst of her scars were, and she flinched, but stayed in place, her breathing growing deeper by the moment.
And then, just as she knew it would, the question came.
“Who did this to you?” Calla asked.
The silence that settled around the room after that question grew thick and stifling. Riley clenched her fists, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms.
“Riley.” Calla’s palm pressed more firmly against her back. As if she had any right to it. As if she had any right to be asking this of her. “Who did this to you?” Calla’s voice was tight, controlled with barely suppressed anger.
And Riley had just about had enough of this now. Because why was Calla angry?
She twitched away from her hand and grabbed the dry shirt from the chair, shoving her head and limbs into it before whirling on Calla. She didn’t know what was showing on her face but Calla widened her eyes, took a step back. It only made the flare of anger burn hotter.
“What does it matter?” Riley bit off, sucking in a sharp breath. “These could’ve easily been your fault, so what do you care?”
Riley hadn’t even realized she’d been mad about that, but the accusation came out of her now, hot and ugly and turning her breath ragged.
Calla looked flat out confused, and it just made everything worse. “What are you talking about?”
“You were going to let Thorian whip me, Calla. The only reason I don’t have fresh scars on my back to add to these is because Sable stepped in.
So why do you give a fuck now? You didn’t before!
” She looked Calla straight in the eye as she said between gritted teeth, “You said it. I’m of no consequence to you. ”
A lot of feelings flashed across Calla’s face then, and after Riley had spent cycles watching her every move, she recognized them easily. Shock. Understanding. And that wall of pure ice snapping back into its usual place. “Is that why you betrayed me, then?”
The soft-spoken question settled heavily between them.
Riley’s heart beat in her throat. The room felt suddenly void of air, stifling. The words cut through her anger like a knife, and it deflated all out of her as Calla just looked back at her, waiting. And Riley had been wrong just earlier–it wasn’t a wall Calla was putting up.
It was an opening.
Fuck, this wasn’t how Riley had wanted to talk about it.
Her outburst had been all out of place. The anger of getting cornered.
But of course Calla was cornering her when she refused to talk about everything that sat heavy and aching between them.
The thing that was holding both of them back. Her betrayal.
“I…” Riley rubbed a hand over her face, unable to meet Calla’s eyes now, and she pulled the chair closer, slumping down on it. She buried her face in her hands, taking a few deep breaths.
What was she supposed to even say? Words would never fix this. Calla hated herself because of what she’d done, and Riley couldn’t take it back, and it was a wonder that hatred wasn’t aimed at her–
She startled at the noise of wood dragging on wood and looked up to see Calla had brought her captain’s chair over from behind the desk.
She sat down right in front of Riley, close enough to–take one of her hands and hold it.
Riley’s heart stuttered in her chest as she looked at their hands in plain confusion.
What was this? Riley had been lashing out.
Calla was supposed to lash back, she was supposed to–
“Talk to me, Riley,” Calla said, drawing her gaze. “I think it’s time.”
There was pain on her face, plain to see.
No walls. And she was holding Riley’s hand as if Riley hadn’t been the one to cause that pain.
As if she were the only one who could soothe it.
That single gesture unclenched something in Riley’s throat, and she found she was able to speak if she wanted to.
And she did want to, even if she didn’t think it would fix anything.
Calla deserved an explanation, and an apology.
She’d been deserving both of those things for a while.
She took a shaky breath, and she held on to Calla’s hand. “Okay,” she breathed. “You’re right. I…” Riley trailed off. Where would she even start?
“From the beginning,” Calla prompted, as if she could read her mind.
So Riley started with the obvious. “I didn’t set foot on your ship meaning to make friends or play nice.” She paused at the lack of surprise on Calla’s face, or even the slightest reaction. “You knew?” she asked faintly.
Calla gave her a wry smile. “The stunt you pulled with Thorian gave you away.”
Riley’s eyes widened. That early? “Why did you–”
Calla raised an eyebrow. “None of us are here because we play by the rules. Keep going.”
Riley sighed and nodded. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at their hands. “I never thought I’d be able to trust anyone,” she said quietly. “Ever since–” She cut herself off with a frustrated sound.
She didn’t want to make this about her past. She didn’t want pity.
“After the first few days here, I could tell things were different from what I was used to. That the people here were different. That all of you cared about each other. But I’d never had that, you know?
So I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
” Riley took in a sharp breath and rubbed her thumb against Calla’s hand.